Silence isn't always golden
by SakuraIchigoDark
Summary: Little Aimi would always believe that her magic took her father away from her. In fact, after his demise she never spoke again, in fear of hurting someone close to her. But what will she do when she has to choose between this curse of a power, and her own mother's life? "Magic is a curse for as long as you treat it as one." One-shot.


Nothing was out of place. Everything was normal, or as normal as it can get in Fairy Tail. It was July the 7th when Levy went into labour. It was July the 7th, when everything kicked off.

It didn't kick off when a guild member kicked the doors open and announced that Levy was in hospital, nor did it kick off when Gajeel raced into the hospital and almost went deaf from the screams. It didn't kick off when she nearly crushed his hand. It didn't even kick off when the 'implications' of having a magical child arose. No, it kicked off on little Aimi's birthday.

Little Aimi was born, like all children, red faced and crying, at least she should have been. If she had then there would be no tale to tell. No, little Aimi was born with light-tan skin, bright multi-toned locks and curious eyes that bewitched anyone that gazed into them, in fact the little girl didn't cry either.

As soon as she was placed into her mother's arms the little girl blinked innocently and smiled at her mother. At that moment everyone was certain that the little girl had stolen her mothers heart, and that she would soon steal their own. As soon as her father lent over her mother and chuckled his odd 'gihi' of a laugh, she flashed an angelic grin and let out a laugh that oddly resembled the chime of heaven's bells more than her inherited 'gihi'. That -the guild decided- was probably the moment that her father swore to protect her forever. It was not, her parents had decided that they'd protect her before she was even born, but her presence filled them with enough love to power a hundred solid scripts and slay a hundred dragons.

The little girl was a bright little girl. She was smart and kind. She was exactly one year old when she uttered her first word. "Papa." She had just been given a soft dark green fabric to keep her beautiful locks out of her face, when she stared into Gajeel's crimson eyes, smiled, laughed and giggled the word. Everyone was so happy. Levy almost cried, Gajeel spun her around and hugged her and the whole guild tried to get her to say their names' for the rest of the day. However, that night, her father disappeared. Levy cried, the guild morned but little Aimi never made a sound.

She furrowed her eyebrows and stared at her feet, but she never cried. In fact, from that moment forth, the little girl never uttered a word. Her bright hair lengthened and darkened to a raven black, that she tied in a ponytail at the base of her neck with the green fabric. Throughout the years little Aimi grew to be more and more beautiful. Her eyes would still bewitch anyone who gazed into them -even though she'd usually burry them in a book or stare at the ground- her hair was softer than silk and never left the green fabric. Her smile could still the flow of tears and take the breath away of even the most cold hearted person.

Every year little Aimi would visit her father's grave, every year she would put her hand to the marble slab, furrow her eyebrows and ponder something. A distant look would form in her eyes and she'd frown whenever someone tried to talk to her but she never made any sort of sound. It was as if, in exchange for making other people speechless, the child herself was cursed to never utter a single word.

Many people assumed that the girl didn't care for words -seeing as she never said any- but in fact, she loved them. Her world revolved around words, their meanings and their effects. More than once her mother would spy her daughter scribbling notes from her solid script books. Levy was the only one, apart from Gajeel, who had heard little Aimi's voice -the guild was far to loud to make out the infants's voice all those years ago- on several occasions Levy would sing her troubled daughter to sleep. One night, when Aimi was especially troubled, Levy found her curled up by her father's grave, wordlessly, singing the tune. That was the night everything made sense. Levy knew that Aimi blamed herself, but she never knew why. She knew her daughter had magic and was enchanted by the different types of magic, so she couldn't understand why she never tried to use magic. She knew her daughter studied magic that originated from words, but didn't truly know why, until that night.

Her daughter was trying to seal her own powers, so that she'd never harm anyone. It was the explanation to everything; from her selective mutism, to the runes she'd force into her own skin. Levy waited until Aimi fell asleep before drawing a blanket over her and whispering to the spirit of her husband. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she told him how much she missed him, how alike the father and daughter were -both attempted self control over their own powers to protect those around then- and how she didn't know how she had managed to raise their daughter without him. There were times; in the guild, at the table, on missions and around the house that Aimi was so alike her father that it took all of Levy's strength not to brake down at those times.

The blunette could almost feel her deceased husband wipe away her tears. She blinked to see her daughter looking at her mother with guilty eyes. Little Aimi had just heard, first hand, how much her mother loved her father, and she truly believed that she was the reason he was gone.

From that moment on Aimi despised her magic even more. Not only that, but it started to manipulate the words around her, she'd be reading one minuet and attempting to stop the printed words from strangling someone the next. She hated her magic. It took her father, her words and her fictional sanctuary away from her, how could she like it? It took everything.

The only thing that stopped her braking down sometimes was her mother. Her wonderful mother, with her soft hazel eyes, azure hair and carefree laugh. So what did this little girl do when her mother was taken from her? She raised hell.

It wasn't like when her father was taken, no, when he was taken from her he simply disappeared, no, she had a chance to get her mother back and hat was what she was going to do, no matter what.

The culprit was a dark mage. He had slung her unconscious mother over his filthy shoulder. He didn't notice the girl chasing him, she had learnt long ago how to soften her footsteps. Aimi almost screamed when she realized that he was using magic, she'd never reach her mother, not unless. She scanned the job flyer that he had dropped, it stated that the client wanted a dead blunette. If he took on jobs like that frequently -which was more than likely seeing as he was able to take down her mother- then, that meant he had a label. No, Aimi didn't need a name. All she needed was a word that they went by, a facade, a title, a word. It was true that she hated her magic, it was also true that she hated hurting people, but it was also true that her father wouldn't let someone take his wife. She had to save her mother. It was her fault that her father couldn't protect her and, damn-it, she loved her mother too much to lose her.

Suddenly she stopped running, cupped her hands around her mouth and, she lowered them. Her mother told her that is was wrong to harm people. Everyone deserved a second chance. But Aimi couldn't just stand there. She balled her hands into fists, and -with her new found determination- screamed at the top of her voice, "Papa!" It was a long shot, but fortunately the murder was knocked to the side, and Aimi's mother was carefully laid on the ground.

Aimi ran to her mother's side. Blood oozed out of her side and her breathing was shallow. Aimi knew she'd have to wake her mother if she was going to have a chance, but if she shock her, she'd bleed out quicker. Without a second thought the girl grasped her mother's shoulders. "Mama!" She screamed. Again and again she screamed though the tears, before sobbing into her mother's chest when she ran out of breath.

"I was your second first word." Aimi gasped. That was her mother's voice. She looked up, but the voice didn't come from her mother's body, no, it came from one of the two spirits that stood before her. She choked back a sob when she saw her mother and father smiling at her. She had always dreamed of seeing them both smile at her, except, in her dreams, they were alive. "What? Ya old pops doesn't get a smile?" Her father taunted. Both Aimi and her mother giggled at his taunt. "Gihi, sure ya do, Papa." She laughed. Her eyes were red and her nose was runny, but no one could deny that it was her most beautiful smile.

"Papa..." She asked. "Do you and Mama have to go?" She asked sadly. Her father gave her a sad smile and turned to his wife. "Na, Shorty here's gotta teach ya how to control yer magic." He chuckled.

"But you-"

"Never been gone, 'ave always been by yer side." Aimi watched her mother jump up to give her father a kiss, before returning to her body. Aimi had almost forgotten how tall her father was, compared to her mother.

Slowly, her father started to fade away. He placed his hands on his beautiful daughter's face and said that he were never far, he told her to live long, strong and to out grow her mother.

Magic is a curse as long as you treat it as one. From that day forth, Aimi decided that she'd never shut up. She knew her parents were always next to her and she decided to live using the love they gave her. Everyday after that, she'd say 'good morning' and 'good night' to her deceased father and Earthland-bound mother. Yes, she'd always believe that her magic took her father from her, but it also helped save her mother, it let her see her father once more and it gave her words that both she -and her mother- cherished so much. So, maybe, her magic wasn't all that bad.

After all, the looks on her nakama's faces' when she said "Tadima," the next day was priceless.

* * *

**Aimi=Love or beautiful **

**Tadima=I'm home**

**I couldn't decide on the ending... whether to say "After all, the looks on her nakama's faces' when she said "Tadima," the next day was priceless."**

**OR**

"After all, there's nothing quite like being able to say "I'm home," to your nakama everyday."


End file.
